


No Sympathy For the Devil

by plastic_cello



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mention of the Vietnam War, The story spans three decades, Violence, references to Nazism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastic_cello/pseuds/plastic_cello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hadn't seen anything like him before or after. In hindsight, he might have been a mercenary of some sort."</p>
<p>"Not mercenary, Agent Pierce, no," Zola had reopened his eyes, before a deplorable smile had stretched his thin lips apart. "But a weapon; a weapon far more advanced than any currently on the market. This particular weapon makes Stark's inventions look like a child's playthings in comparison."</p>
<p>"A man cannot be a weapon, Doctor."</p>
<p>"No, I suppose not. But that is not a man; I should know. I had a hand in its creation."</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Sympathy For the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it would be interesting to write a story from Alexander Pierce's perspective. I, obviously, took liberty with his backstory. Take heed of the tags; this story is bound to be dark for obvious reasons.
> 
> Also since we do not have a solid date (or any that I could find) in which Zola had worked on the Winter Soldier Project, I'm taking some liberties with that as well.

* * *

 

**:: Prologue ::**

 

* * *

 

 

The Vietnam War had been a pivotal point in U.S. History. It had been equally pivotal in Alexander Pierce's life as well. That was when his fervent nationalism had unwittingly changed and turned to disenchantment instead.

Dropped in the center of a humid, overgrown jungle on foreign soil had changed him forever. Alexander had joined the military to follow in his father's footsteps. But unlike the valiant efforts of the Allies in the Second World War, Vietnam had been anything but noble. In fact, one could say the country's involvement in the war had been one of the worst decisions the United States government had ever made.

Alexander had been one of the few that had returned unscathed. His psychological health was certainly debatable for the following years in which his military career turned towards the political side eventually. And yet his compulsion to become a politician had more to do with the things he had seen in Vietnam more than anything else.

The atrocities were numerous. The level of inhumanity was both startling and inevitable. War had a way of altering one's compassion until it was nearly non-existent. And the Viet Cong, perhaps one of the communist allies, potentially the Russians, had been in possession of a weapon Alexander hadn't ever witnessed beforehand.

The memory of the mayhem that unfolded before his eyes that day, still made his body tremor in fear and exhilaration. He had been fortunate to not have gotten in the way. He could have very well ended up dead during that encounter. But instead he lived to see America again, and he meticulously began a political career that would eventually span three decades.

With his skewed desire to serve, Alexander participated in local politics in the country's capital. He had the wherewithal to be a successful politician, even with his military record of serving in an unpopular war. He relied heavily on his father's military career and his grandfather's before him. Not only that though, he had the charm, wit, and good looks that made him forgivable in the people's eyes.

His rise in the political world had been rapid. By the mid-seventies he'd gone from community leader to earning a notable role in an anti-terrorism organization called SHIELD. That was an even greater turning point for him, since not only did he work in close proximity with Margaret "Peggy" Carter, but also Howard Stark as well; both of which had founded the group. But he had also became closely involved with the notorious war criminal Arnim Zola during that time.

Vietnam had been the beginning of Alexander's disillusionment, but frequently working shoulder-to-shoulder with Zola had rapidly turned things onto their head. Zola, equipped with an insufferable coyness as if he always knew something you did not, had spoken fondly of his work within the defunct Nazi group HYDRA.

Alexander hadn't listened too closely to the propaganda at first. After all, his father had bravely fought against the Nazis and that would have been a disservice to his sacrifice. And yet, he had somehow been seduced by HYDRA's mission statement. He'd become consumed by it even, and especially the idea that HYDRA could better the world if only they had the foothold that they once did in the past.

In later conversations, murmured in dark corners, Alexander learned that many high-ranking HYDRA operatives still were alive and well. Many had defected to South America; others had slipped undetected into parts of Canada and the United States. All of them were fervently loyal to the cause, and Zola himself was no different in that respect; even if he played the role Carter and Stark desired of him.

That's when things became especially interesting between them. Alexander had been wary of Zola despite their conversations; he was a snake in the grass, and he supposed Zola had deemed him a threat as well. Because the conversation around HYDRA had the opportunity to damn them both, especially if either of them had been trying to bait the other into hailing allegiance to a well-documented terrorist and hate group.

However, that hadn't stopped a choice conversation between them from occurring anyway. It had been a rainy Thursday evening; the Cold War had been in full-swing at that point, and there had been an upturn in Russian spies trying to infiltrate the country of late. The spies had purportedly been a part of a group called The Red Room. But that had been speculation only; Carter had shown interest in unearthing the truth of those claims all the same, though.

"I've heard the name Dottie Underwood quite a bit of late." Alexander had been perched on an uncomfortable stool across the way from Zola in his laboratory at SHIELD headquarters. "Director Carter's been pretty emphatic about whoever that woman is and her connection to the Russians."

Zola had shot him a heavily suspicious look. There had been a glass in his piggy hand, and his fingers had tightened around its girth as if he had anticipated for Alexander to betray him at long last. Except it had never came, which eventually had eased his grip.

"I've heard the name many years ago. I once had a cellmate from Russia." Zola had sounded conversational, despite the squared off set of his shoulders. "The Red Room is old indeed."

"In my experience, it would be too obvious to send someone as visible as Director Carter out into the field again. She's a mother of two; think of the consequences if she were killed."

"Director Carter has vendettas,"

"I'd like a chance to go to Russia."

"How brave, Agent Pierce." Zola had retorted condescendingly, which had hardly bothered Alexander at the time. "So are you telling me this as a forewarning that I'll lose your company for several weeks in the future?"

Alexander had snorted, before he'd crossed his arms over his chest. For some unknown reason, he had had the urge to relay what had occurred in Vietnam to someone. Carter and Stark hadn't seemed particularly trustworthy with that information, especially with how Alexander had been feeling towards his country of late. So why not tell a well-known war criminal instead?

"Making conversation for conversation's sake," he had shrugged. "Besides I had an interesting encounter back in Vietnam. I don't know who this person was, but he certainly wasn't Vietnamese. And in retrospect he did have a red star on his uniform; I suspect that spells out some connection to the Russians."

That statement had been unexpectedly life-altering. Zola's suspicions had melted away into something peculiar. His small eyes had bulged in shock and potentially terror. But more than even that, Zola had looked hungry and excited by the information.

He had lurched forward, which had surprised Alexander. He had jerked back abruptly; he had been fully prepared to use his firearm tucked in his holster and kill the bastard. It had been fortunate for Zola that he had enough self-control not to unleash a bullet or two into his ugly, pudgy face.

"A red star, you say?" Zola had sounded reverent; his entire body had appeared to buzz with anticipation even.

"Yeah, it was a red star on the shoulder. I can't remember which one; black fatigues, a mask, and dark goggles," Alexander had recounted with a frown. "I hadn't seen anything like him before or after. In hindsight, he might have been a mercenary of some sort."

Zola had closed his eyes and bobbed his head. His behavior had grown increasingly uncomfortable for Alexander to witness. But in some way he had related to the strange enthusiasm; he had had many nightmares about the man in black that had decimated a group of soldiers without any trouble whatsoever.

"Not mercenary, Agent Pierce, no," Zola had reopened his eyes, before a deplorable smile had stretched his thin lips apart. "But a weapon; a weapon far more advanced than any currently on the market. This particular weapon makes Stark's inventions look like a child's playthings in comparison."

"A man cannot be a weapon, Doctor."

"No, I suppose not. But that is not a man; I should know. I had a hand in its creation." Zola had taken a swig of his drink then; although his gleeful inflection had turned bitter. "That bastard Lukin has taken what is rightfully HYDRA's."

Alexander hadn't known then if Zola had been lying or not. He had been highly skeptical of him, and he had parted ways with him minutes of that statement. Later on though, he had been casually introduced to a man who had worked as a FBI informant, a former member of the Nazi party and by proxy HYDRA, who had relayed a similar story to Alexander about HYDRA's greatest asset.

In those few choice months, Alexander had become acquainted with nearly fifty high-ranked officers of the defunct organization. But they had believed with the acquirement of their greatest weapon that they would return to power soon enough.

By no means had Alexander become a full-fledged member of HYDRA in plain-sight after those encounters. No, it had taken far longer than that. And despite the murmurs of Russian spies who had supposedly been sent by The KGB into the country; SHIELD hadn't made a move until two years later.

That had been when Alexander had finally been indoctrinated into HYDRA. He had also been sent abroad by Director Carter to investigate the activity of The KGB's leader, Lukin. But that had ultimately brought him to a much more satisfactory conclusion once the Soviet Union finally collapsed.

HYDRA had acquired the Winter Soldier once more, and it had all been because of him.


End file.
